


Kissing Booth

by grapehyasynth



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fun fair, Kissing Booth, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV David Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapehyasynth/pseuds/grapehyasynth
Summary: David and Stevie attend the town's fun fair. David gets more than he bargains for at the kissing booth.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 100
Kudos: 237





	Kissing Booth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reymanova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reymanova/gifts), [hagface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hagface/gifts).



> I floated this to Sarah and Katey for my WIP - Sarah said no, Katey said yes, so I listened to them both and did not put it in my WIP but a) brainstormed it instead of meditating and b) wrote it instead of working out. Unbetaed and written in a very uncomfortable seated position on my living room floor because the muse is Impatient

“Okay, so we’re looking for...” Stevie rotates the cheap map they’ve printed for the fun fair, frowning. “Tents B13 and B28.” 

David tugs the end of the flannel tied around her waist to pull her out of the way of some overeager teenagers powering down the grassy pathway. “I can’t believe they have a _kissing booth_. It’s 2018. Haven’t we all, like, decided those are gross and extremely unsanitary?”

“Sometimes it’s like you forget where you live.”

“Ugh. I try.” The fair is a hodgepodge of booths and games and rickety rides David would not trust with his life. Some of Jocelyn’s students are selling creations from their ceramics class to raise money for a new water fountain at the middle school; Ray’s got seven booths and seems to be trying to man them all himself. “Ooh! B13.” 

“Now, are you planning to use _all_ your tickets on kisses?” Stevie asks as they beeline towards the tent in question. 

David looks down at the row of 20 orange tickets he’s just bought. “I know you’re joking, but this has been a _very_ bleak year for my dating life, Stevie.” 

Just outside the tent, David’s father, of all people, comes striding towards them. “Stevie! I’m so glad I caught you.” 

“I’m kind of off the clock here, Mr. Rose,” Stevie says. She’s clearly itching for a good, pathetic smooch as much as David is. “Can this wait?” 

“It’ll just be a minute, I promise,” Johnny assures her. 

Stevie sighs but waves her hand at David. “You go ahead, I’ll be in a minute.” 

The tent is dimly lit inside; it’s made of some shabby dark purple cloth and feels like it used to host the medium who does tarot card readings and also works at the gas station deli. 

“Oh! David, right?” 

Somehow, in all his excitement about this kissing booth, he’d forgotten to consider _who_ would be doing the kissing. 

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. “Um, I think this is for you.” He tears off one of the tickets and hands it over. 

Patrick, one of the town’s newer transplants, smiles and takes the paper stub. “Just the one?” 

“Oh, I-” David’s not sure why he’s flustered. It’s just a kiss. Okay, he’s _paying_ for this _kiss_ , but it’s for charity or something, probably - he hadn’t checked on the details. “I thought I’d start with one, yeah.” 

“Okay, that’ll be $5.” 

“Do you take cash, or-”

“Yeah, cash is fine,” Patrick nods, and he’s _way_ chiller about this than David would expect from him. “I also have Venmo and Square, if one of those is easier.” 

“I will just Venmo you, then,” David says. “I, um, I still have your number, I think.” 

They’d met a few months ago at a Greater Elms queer book club and exchanged numbers, but David’s been so busy with the (thriving, thanks so much) first few months of his new gallery slash art class space that nothing had come of it. 

He hesitates over the message, then decides to go bold and adds the lips emoji. They both know why they’re here. 

Patrick’s phone pings in his pocket and he pats it. David tries not to let his gaze linger in that area. “That’ll be you, then?” 

“Um, yep.” 

“Alright, well, have a seat.” 

David frowns as Patrick takes one of the folding chairs that are placed facing each other. This seems like a _very_ awkward setup for a kiss, even a perfunctory business exchange of a kiss. This is obviously Patrick’s first time running the kissing booth. 

Still, he perches on the chair and waits. 

“Why don’t you get us started,” Patrick offers, leaning forward with his forearms on his thighs. David can see the hint of little tufts of pale chest hair where his button-down falls open. 

“Oh, you want me to-” 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” 

“Okay.” David’s suddenly _very_ glad Stevie isn’t here to witness this. He feels like a seventeen-year-old fumbling his way through a first kiss in the backseat of a car. He himself was obviously younger than seventeen when he had his first kiss, but. It’s just a metaphor. “So. I’ll just. Kiss you, then?” 

He’s not totally sure what Patrick’s face is doing; it’s probably disgust that he has to kiss someone so obviously incompetent at basic human interaction. “Oh. You - okay,” Patrick says. 

David slides all the way to the edge of his chair. The way they’re seated, facing each other, his knees bump into Patrick’s and then press past them so he’s got one knee between Patrick’s legs. He hears Patrick’s shaky inhale and gently squeezes his knee. It can’t be easy doing this all day, even for a good cause. 

He reaches up to cradle Patrick’s face. Patrick’s skin is hot, his eyes very bright and wide, and his hands grasp the underside of David’s arms. 

“Is this okay?” David whispers, nonsensically; he’s paid for this but still, he wants to be sure. 

“Yeah,” Patrick breathes, gaze riveted on David’s mouth. “Yes.” 

It’s a gentle kiss; really, he’s kissing Patrick’s upper lip more than anything, just a soft touch there. He’ll need to balance that, so he pulls back just enough to compensate the lower lip as well, another quick press there. 

Patrick exhales against David’s mouth and both their heads tilt of their own accord, lips slotting together in a kiss far less tentative, Patrick’s hand at the back of David’s neck, David’s tongue teasing the cupid’s bow of Patrick’s mouth. 

He eventually draws back, eyes closed for a beat longer than is probably appropriate. 

“I should probably Venmo you a bit more,” he murmurs, reluctantly untangling himself and retreating back into his own chair. 

“What?” Patrick looks a little dazed, his cheeks and lips pink, even in the dim tent. 

“That was more than one kiss,” David chuckles. 

“Oh.” Patrick smiles slowly, spreading his hands. “That’s okay by me.” 

“Well. That’s very generous of you.” David tries to bite down on his smile. He wonders if it would be too obvious and pathetic to pull out another ticket. Then again, Stevie and his _dad_ are right outside. “I’ll just. Um.” 

Patrick stands as he does. “Wait, David, what was your question?” 

David pauses at the tent flap. “My question?” 

“Yeah.” Patrick’s still holding the ticket stub, somehow; David watches it slide into those tight, tight pockets with Patrick’s nice, nice hands. “You know, your business question?” 

“I don’t-” David shakes his head. 

Patrick’s mouth opens, and now he’s grinning. “That’s what the $5 was for, David. For me to answer a business question.” 

“ _What_ ?” David demands, and _this_ is naturally the moment Stevie finally fucking shows up. “No, this is the _kissing_ booth.” 

“No it’s not,” Stevie and Patrick both say. 

“Tent B13!” David squawks. 

“Tent B13,” Stevie agrees, but she’s holding up the map, pointing with one finger. “Business advice with Patrick. You thought this was the _kissing booth_? Why do you think I kept mentioning Jake?” 

“Oh my god,” David mutters, and the ground has to swallow him up, has to open right up and suck him all the way through to China or Mozambique or whatever is on the other side of the earth from Schitt’s Creek because he cannot stay here anymore. “Oh my god, I am - I am _so sorry_ ,” he says in Patrick’s general direction, and then he bolts. 

He gets lost somewhere near the funnel cake, which - maybe he can live here, instead; maybe he can make friends with the people who own the funnel cake stand and leave when they leave, move on to the next sad town with them and subsist on funnel cake and pathetic highway hookups. He should’ve grabbed the map from Stevie before he ran; how can a fun fair in rural Ontario be this fucking big? 

“David!” 

Patrick, the former Boy Scout he no doubt was, has had no trouble navigating the fair. 

“Listen, if you want to press charges for that mortifying, mortifying exchange, I would _not_ blame you,” David splutters. “Though honestly, you _could_ have warned me, or like, labelled your tent, or something?” 

“I’m flattered,” Patrick admits, and he’s standing so close, and the air smells of fried dough and spun sugar and it makes David want to lick Patrick, even more than usual. “I’m flattered that you didn’t know what you were walking into but you saw me and your mind jumped to the kissing booth.” 

“That’s not - that’s not what happened,” David lies. “I was led to believe-” 

“Hey David,” Patrick says. “Check your phone.” 

“My-” Frowning, he does. He has a new notification from Venmo. **patrick brewer paid you $5 👄**. “I don’t - What is this f-” 

But Patrick is kissing him before he can get the question out, kissing him out here in the dusk and hustle and bustle and sweet air. 

David blinks at him when they separate. “Did you...did you pay me, so that you could kiss me?” 

Patrick smiles innocently. “I’m just following your lead, David. But now it’s your turn to initiate; I’m not made of cash.” 

“Okay, you are making me feel _very_ cheap,” David grumbles, but Patrick’s winding his arms around David’s waist and _that_ he would pay for. He seemingly doesn’t have to, though. 

"We could negotiate up to $7.50?” 

“Not what I meant,” David says, but they’re kissing again, and it’s unclear who initiated it so he hopes to god Patrick won’t Venmo him for this later. 

They walk hand in hand back towards Patrick’s tent, which he’s still supposed to be working for another half hour. Stevie’s there, looking highly pleased with herself. 

“Did you do this on purpose?” David demands. 

“Not even _I_ am that diabolical,” she smirks. 

“You sell yourself short.” 

“Anyway, I’m going to find the _actual_ kissing booth. Do you want to come?” 

David glances at Patrick and hides his smile in Patrick’s shoulder. “I think I’m okay, actually. You have fun, though.” 

Stevie shakes her excess of tickets at him. “Ohhhhh, I will.” 

“Tell Jake I said hi!” David calls after her. 

  
  
  



End file.
